Sweet Hatred Chapter 281: Similarities

She elbowed , grinning so wide I thought her face might crack.

Second flash.

"Try not to look like you’re at a funeral."

I stared blankly at the lens.

Third flash.

"Ivan would’ve stuck a straw up your nose by now just to get a laugh."

That pulled the smallest twitch of my mouth.

Fourth flash. Done.

Erin whooped, grabbing the printout as it slid out. "Oh my god, we look horrible."

"Good."

She handed one copy. "Keep it. For Ivan."

I hesitated. Then tucked it into my coat pocket, pressing it down like maybe if I buried it deep enough, it wouldn’t split in two.

Later

I drove her ho myself.

Didn’t say much on the way. My voice had settled into silence again. My head ached in that familiar way grief always delivered... like a hamr behind the eyes.

When we pulled up to her apartnt, Erin paused before stepping out.

"I’m planning sothing," she said. "For Ivan. On the day."

I looked at her.

She continued, "Just sothing simple. Cake. Pictures. His playlist. Maybe those weird cherry sodas he used to love."

I rembered those.

He used to force them on everyone like they were liquid gold.

"I want to do it right," she whispered. "Do you think you’d help ? Be there?"

I didn’t hesitate this ti.

"I’ll be there," I said.

Her smile was softer now. "He really loved you, you know."

I didn’t answer.

Because if I did, I might not stop shaking.

She got out, waved once, and disappeared through the building door.

I didn’t drive off imdiately.

The engine humd quietly beneath , lights from the building bleeding into the windshield like veins. The world outside felt soft... hushed and slow... but inside, I was a storm.

I leaned back into the seat. One arm draped over the wheel.

I dug inside my coat Pocket, fingers curled around the photo strip like it might keep anchored.

I shouldn’t have co today.

But I had to.

Ivan would’ve dragged out himself if he was alive. Would’ve thrown my coat out the window and said, "You wanna grieve ? Then show up and rember the good shit too, dumbass."

My hand slipped into my coat pocket again. The photo booth strip still sat there. Warm from my body heat.

I didn’t look at it. I didn’t need to.

I reached for my phone instead.

Opened my gallery. It was empty. Of course it was.

Except one.

Tucked way down. Hidden. Undeleted.

A photo of Aria.

Taken on a whim... the day she dragged to that stupid park for my birthday. I loved the one we had taken afterwards but this was my favorite.

She was mid-sentence. A french fry in one hand, the other flailing mid-air like it was delivering a TED Talk on sothing I couldn’t even rember because I was too busy staring at her face. Her expression caught between serious and playful.

She looked...

Real.

So fucking real I could sll the sunscreen on her skin and the warmth of her thigh pressed against mine when we sat on that ratty picnic cloth.

I rembered sneaking the shot.

And how she caught a second later and demanded to see it.

I’d told her I deleted it.

I lied.

My thumb hovered over her face now. God, I missed her. I missed her like a lung misses air. The space between us was its own kind of violence.

I stared at the screen for a long ti. Then my thumb slid to my ssages and I started to type.

Are you okay...

I erased it.

I saw you at the burial...

Erased again.

I miss you.

God.

I fucking hated myself.

I locked the screen. Tossed the phone into the passenger seat like it burned.

My chest caved inward. A slow, dull crush of sothing I couldn’t na. Maybe grief. Maybe regret. Maybe everything. The silence was deafening.

Until my phone buzzed.

Ash.

I groaned under my breath and picked up.

"What?"

"Glad you picked," she said. "We have a clean-up situation."

"What kind?"

She sighed. "Sothing about the last neural sync batch from Zephyrcore’s test group. One of the terminals threw off a spike yesterday and it flagged your na in the logs."

My fingers tightened on the wheel. "How?"

"I don’t know yet. But I’m cleaning it before it climbs to your father and mine’s desk. et at headquarters. Twenty minutes."

I nodded. "Fine."

"And Kael?"

"What."

"You sound like shit."

Click.

I started the car. Pulled into traffic. Didn’t bother looking back.

I had to bury everything again.

Aria. Ivan. That ache in my fucking bones.

The world was still turning. And so was I. Whether I wanted to or not.

....

Zephyrcore was too bright for my mood.

The lobby lights made my head throb. My shoes echoed across marble floors that were too clean, too clinical... like the kind of place that didn’t allow grief past the doors. I took the elevator straight to the upper-level labs, ignoring the wide-eyed interns and stiff suits who scurried out of my way like I carried death in my pocket.

Maybe I did.

Ash was already waiting when I stepped into the secure wing. Leaning against the glass-paneled wall like she hadn’t just called in for an ergency, her arms folded, hair pinned back into so sleek updo that scread I’m bored, fix it.

"Took you long enough," she said, pushing off the wall.

"Just talk."

She rolled her eyes and handed a tablet. "So the clean-up’s minor... so irregular neural feedback from the last sync. Probably a corrupted relay node, but the code flagged your old designation in the ping. If it escalates, people we don’t want will sniff it out. I’m handling the internal log wipes before that happens."

"Where’d the node flag it?" I asked, already skimming the data.

"R&D branch, New Bastion. One of the early trial n. Could just be a sensor glitch," she said, shrugging. "Or maybe you left a mark in soone’s subconscious. Wouldn’t be the first ti."

I ignored the bait. My hand went to my inner coat pocket, reaching for my phone.

That’s when it slipped.

Ash’s brow lifted when she noticed. She bent and picked it up before I could stop her.

"Oh my god," she breathed. "Is this...? Is this you in a photo booth?"

I snatched it back. "Give it."

She didn’t. Not imdiately. Her eyes scanned it... three vertical fras.

"I didn’t even think you had a reflection, much less a soul," she teased, her grin sly. "Look at you. You almost look jolly. I thought you’d need to be strapped down for a selfie."

"Ash."

"Okay, okay," she said, finally handing it over. "Touchy. But seriously... who’s the lucky girl?"

I shoved the strip into my pocket and t her eyes with a glare sharp enough to draw blood.

She smirked. "God, you’re no fun. How does Aria cope with you?"

My chest twisted.

I didn’t think.

"Is she okay?"

Ash blinked at the sudden shift. Her smirk softened a little. "If you’re that curious, you could just ask her, you know."

I looked away. Of course I couldn’t. Not when she told to stay gone.

Ash sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "She’s surviving. On the outside, she looks steady. But inside?" She hesitated. "She’s breaking in slow motion."

That landed hard.

Too hard.

I looked down at the photo booth strip again... barely visible in my palm... and swallowed the ache.

"Just send an update," I said, voice cold again.

Ash rolled her eyes. "So we’re back to that. Alright. I’ll email you the debug routes and clean-wipe logs. Oh, and... " she arched a brow, "you never answered. Who was the girl in the picture?"

I turned away.

She clicked her tongue behind . "God, I can’t wait for this damn partnership to be over."

I paused, halfway to the door. " too."